


Forest Hands

by lechatnoir



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Character Turned Into Vampire, F/F, F/M, Gen, Hannibal kink meme, Multi, Prompt Fill, Vampires, hannibalkink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-18
Updated: 2013-07-18
Packaged: 2017-12-20 13:49:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/887998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lechatnoir/pseuds/lechatnoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a hannibalkink meme prompt fill - <i> Alana and Abigail are sisters that were turned into vampires by Hannibal after he murdered their parents. </i></p><p>In which, they hear the violin playing in the dark of the night, and the forest wraps itself around them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forest Hands

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me at : chrysanthemumskies @ tumblr uvu

i.  
They remember the sound of the woods wrapping around them, a little picture perfect house silent as the knives scrape against porcelain plates and a smile that plasters itself on their father’s face and it’s enough to keep them silent. 

(They would run upstairs, whisper secrets and how there are things living in the walls , that always watch them. 

Alana mutters that it’s just Abigail’s imagination, nothing more. 

She turns the pages of her psychology textbook, highlighter staining white paper a faint red and she tries to shut out the shutter sounds that whisper along the edge of her mind) 

Abigail thinks her older sister is too stiff sometimes, but she doesn’t doubt that she hears the sounds too – the ever present scratching and low wail of something that wants to get inside, wants to crawl up and never leave. 

She thinks maybe that will be quite alright, that maybe they need something to paint the walls red, with the forest watching and the pale moon humming up above in the sky. 

ii.

Hannibal Lecter drops into their lives quietly, as if he had always been there, quiet and regal and it’s three piece suits with no speck of dust on them and a gleam in his eyes that seems to speak volumes while the man keeps to curt, short sentences and extravagant meals filled with names that they had never heard of . 

 

He is their neighbor, and they do their best to welcome him into the community, once he comes to the fringe of their minds and they think that there’s a fog that settles in their minds whenever he is near. 

 

(He’s a psychiatrist, a private one.) 

(He moves in next door to them, and tends to keep to himself and yet they can’t help but be curious about him.)

iii.

They hear odd sounds in the night, something like flesh being torn up to shreds , and the ever present hum of a violin playing in the night with no one but the moon for an audience. 

“You hear that, don’t you, Alana?” Abigail pipes up from her bed in their shared room, antlers painted on duvet covers with leaves that shimmer slightly from green to gold. 

“Yeah. It sounds sad.” Is all that Alana can say as they sit up and listen to the melody drift through the window and wrap itself around them, lulling them to sleep.

iv.

Hannibal Lecter visits them with a grandiose platter of meat and fruit rolled up into one impressive dish that they didn’t quite catch the name of when he had said it, velvet voice and a pleasant smile. 

“May I come in?” 

Is all he asks, a smile of shark teeth and glee flickering in his eyes.

(It’s just a simple ‘yes’ and the monster is inside, slipping through the cracks of the floorboards and humming through the wooden beams that hold the house up) 

“Of course, come in come in.” 

He notes that the mother is skittish and almost frightened, pale and trembling hiding everything behind a smile of compassion.

The father is quiet and calculating, a sneer scrambling through his face and he thinks of how disgusting they both are, how utterly worthless they are.

(He keeps mind of the hunger that claws through him and wills himself to wait) 

The girls are interesting – the younger of the two catches his eye and smiles at him, and there’s a icy coolness to her and something timid, like a doe and a wolf wrapped up into one small , lithe package.

(She’s like a faerie, charming and intelligent, and willing to rip your throat out with a flick of her wrist) 

The older one is skeptical, calculating, and yet there’s a certain pleasantry about her, as if she is poison and a flower in bloom rolled up into one. 

The father asks them to show him around, they offer to take him through the forest.

He smiles, and lets them lead him away from their dinner table, soft velvet carpet making no sound behind him.

v. 

The forest, as he finds out, is where the girls spend most of their time, with nothing but their thoughts and imagination to keep them company.

“It’s all quite boring really.” Alana mutters, kicking a rock into a nearby stream.

“Sometimes dad takes me out to hunt.” Abigail says, hair framing her face like will-o-wisp leaves.

“Do you like it? Going on a hunt?” Hannibal asks, voice curious and eyes filled to the brim with curiosity.

(They will do nicely) 

“Somewhat , I guess.” Abigail mutters, shoving her hands into her pockets.

(There’s something hidden in her words, something like an old ghost that wraps his hand around her neck and threatens to suffocate her) 

(Ah.  
The father.) 

He lets out a laugh and tells them that he happened to have forgotten something back at the house, and so he leaves them behind, saying something along the lines of 

“The forest isn’t a harmful place, you’ll be fine here, am I correct in making that assumption?”

The girls nod, and he smiles at them , before bowing slightly and moving silently and quickly back to the house.

vi. 

He kills the father first, wrings his neck and tears out his throat, and it’s messy but he’s far too hungry and disgusted by the man to care about being messy.

(Alright well, he does care. This is after all, a new suit and dry cleaning is expensive.  
Not that he actually cares or worries about money) 

He kills the mother second, quietly slits her throat and lets her bleed out on the kitchen tiles, painting everything a nice pleasant red.

He doesn’t hear the girls enter the house, only hear a gasp and the sound of shoes slamming against wood and he thinks that their panic is quiet delicious, but that they have nothing to fear from him.

vii.

He remembers that he had brought his old violin , and that he had a habit of playing when things were far too noisy, far too static filled for him to be able to concentrate.

And so, he played, and the girls crept out from their hiding spot, armed with books and something silver perhaps? 

He watches them and they watch him and he simply stops playing and tells them , velvet smile dancing on his lips as he says 

“You have nothing to fear.”

(I’m not going to hurt you.) 

viii. 

They venture out into the forest, and he tells them why and how, and while they try to fight and get away, he smiles instead and says that no one will take them seriously, no one will care.

And he thinks, they’re two very sad girls, holding hands in the shadow of the moon with no one but an old vampire for company.

“What if , we go with you?” the younger one says, and Alana can only bristle and huff at the fact that he _murdered_ their parents and will probably kill them as well. 

“I’m not going to hurt you. Your parents were the cause of your escapisms, the fact that you had a habit of locking your bedroom door with a lock and the fact that you were afraid of your father because of what he did to you, creeping into your bed at night and making you feel worthless. It was there, written on his face as he kept on sneering and scoffing at my home made dinner. I, on the other hand, did you two a favor. A thank you of sorts, for letting me into your home.” 

He smiles at them, and continues to play, and there is an aura that wraps around them, and they go to him, a quiet smile on their faces and they don’t know why, but the forest seems to wrap them up in its arms as he sinks his fangs into their flesh, and slowly the moon watches as they slump against him and turn into one of his kind, and they leave behind the house , the little picture perfect house locked away in the woods.

And no one knew that they had existed, and no one seemed to care.

Only the forest wrapped itself around them and sung them an old tale, with the violin humming about, like a sparrow flying around a moonless night.

And that was the end of that.


End file.
